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BAMBOO SHOOTS
Works of fiction and poetry by friends of Bamboo Ridge Press.

YEAR OF THE MONKEY CONTEST

Our Last Date

Published by JIM HARSTAD | Tuesday, May 17, 2016 12:32 AM


100 words for May.


She's late, a half-hour,
Grins naughty as sin,
Smells like old fish.

Little Willy John's "Fever"
Hisses, fades, in and out
On nighttime AM radio
From Seattle.

My Chevy's front seat
Rhythms 'n blueses one last time;
Bob Summerise on the low and slow
From his World of Music,
"To real . . . cool . . . cats . . . everywhere."

Our last date,
Lost fever,
Hiss and fade.

One morning in speech class at Olympic College,
I ask Mildred Summerise,
"Would you know a Bob Summerise?"

Reticent, reluctant, embarrassed, actually blushing
Behind dark velvet melanin: "My brother. At one time."
Conversation closed. I still wonder why.



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